Fighting a silent pandemic: The urgent threat of Antimicrobial Resistance
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FEATURE
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OFF THE BOARD
Nurturing action through collective care
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Discussions of campus security and academic freedom dominate McGill Senate meeting
Campus police presence and new first-year orientation challenges among discussion items
Monique Kasonga Opinion Editor
The McGill Senate convened on Nov. 13 to address issues such as the increased police and security presence on campus, the adjusted move-in date for first-year students, and academic freedom.
The meeting began with memorial tributes to the late Professor Michael Smith, Professor Emeritus Bohumil Volesky, and Professor James Archibald.
Next, the Senate moved to its question period where the group discussed moving up the first-year move-in date to be closer to the first day of classes. SSMU Arts Senator Anzhu Wei raised concerns about how the tim -
ing would affect orientation events, arguing that it would hinder students’ adjustment to campus life. Interim Deputy Provost (Student Life & Learning) Angela Campbell explained that the change was intended to accommodate the newly-introduced Fall Reading Week, adding that the administration would consult student associations to mitigate any adverse effects. PG. 3
The Tribune Editorial Board
TMontreal’s unhoused population deserves care, not cruelty
he Société de transport de Montréal’s (STM) recent decision to close a major entrance to the Atwater metro station until April 2025 exemplifies Montreal’s unempathetic approach toward its most vulnerable residents. This entrance has long served as a crucial warming space for unhoused individuals during Quebec’s harsh winters. The STM’s vague justification—citing “safety concerns” and “undesirable behaviour”—thinly veils what housing advocates iden -
tify as a calculated strategy of displacement for unprotected populations. This closure comes at a critical time when weather forecasts predict an unusually severe winter and shelters for unhoused individuals consistently operate beyond capacity.
Nurturing action through collective care
EDITORIAL OFF THE BOARD
Understanding ourselves as a
part of a larger community can
Shani Laskin Managing Editor
Five days a week for the past four years, my classmates and I have sat in lecture halls and listened to how humans are destroying the Earth. We’ve learned about global leaders who keep failing to meet their stated
defeat political apathy
climate commitments or how others choose to deny climate change entirely, preferring to suck every last drop of fossil fuels from the ground. We’ve learned about the sneaky ways in which extractive industries rip up rainforests and slither away unscathed. We’ve learned about how we value the natural world in monetary terms,
neglecting its inherent worth. We’ve learned about the deep sense of alienation that many people feel from the very Earth that sustains us. I’ve learned all of this and yet, I am hopeful. While corporations ought to address their climate impacts, they lack the monetary incentives to do so holistically.
(Drea Garcia Avila / The Tribune)
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McGill’s major Indigenous Studies problem
SSMU VP Sustainability and Operations resigns, second executive departure this semester
Two candidates applied to fill
Amelia H. Clark Staff Writer
The Vice-President (VP) Sustainability and Operations of the Students’ Society of McGill (SSMU), Meg Baltes, announced her resignation at a Legislative Council meeting on Nov. 7. This follows the resignation of the former VP Student Life, Chloe Muñoz, who left the position on Oct. 29. Baltes will be staying on the executive team during the election period—Nov. 5 to Nov. 29—and her resignation will go into effect on Dec. 13.
In a written statement to The Tribune , Baltes explained that she is leaving the position to accept a job offer in her field of study. She will begin the role in January, making her unable to continue her duties as VP Sustainability and Operations for the coming Winter 2025 semester.
“I have enjoyed my position here at the SSMU and believe I have contributed effectively to restructuring my departments and committees,” Baltes wrote. “I hope to leave the position in good hands and be a helpful resource to whoever takes the position next!”
Though Baltes’ notice of resignation comes just nine days after Muñoz’s resignation took effect, the VP Sustainability and
the vacancy
Operations noted that her reasons for resigning were “unrelated” to those of the former VP Student Life. Muñoz cited the demanding workload of executives as a reason for resignation, and expressed frustrations with SSMU’s structure impeding executives’ abilities to create change on campus.
Baltes’ successor will take over responsibilities such as managing the University Centre, overseeing campus businesses such as Gerts Bar and Café, and sitting on SSMU’s Gardens and Grounds Committee and the Senate Committee on Physical Development. The position also comes with managerial duties, as the VP Sustainability and Operations helps maintain SSMU’s relationship with McGill’s administration and oversees a team of coordinators, commissioners, and general staff.
Sustainability Commissioner Kai Hollett is responsible for organizing SSMU activities that bring awareness to environmental issues on campus. As part of the sustainability team, he and Baltes work together on the SSMU Environment Committee, making sure that initiatives and programs at McGill take a sustainable approach to all their endeavours. In a written statement to The Tribune , Hollett wrote that his working relationship with Baltes was supportive and productive.
“[Baltes]’ commitment to the McGill
student body shone through in everything that she did,” Hollett wrote. “We are committed to a smooth transition between [Baltes] and her successor to ensure that the student body can continue to access the services provided by our team.”
If no replacement is found before Baltes’ resignation goes into effect, the remaining five SSMU executives will divide the role’s workload, on top of their own responsibilities which, as of Oct. 29, have included the duties of VP Student Life.
In a written statement to The Tribune , SSMU President Dymetri Taylor expressed that the recent executive resignations reflect larger patterns in SSMU’s culture in which executives fail to prioritize the longterm best interests of the union. For Taylor, many of the current challenges that come with an executive role at the SSMU—too many clubs, too few events, a lack of student engagement—are the result of past
boards failing to think about the future.
“Over the last decade, executives have mostly been thinking in the short term: ‘What will stand out on my CV?’ or ‘What is the easiest solution?’” Taylor wrote. “These positions require you to think beyond that simple framework and focus on the heart of the matter: How can I improve the SSMU for the future?”
The nomination period for both VP Student Life and VP Operations and Sustainability ended on Nov. 15, with two persons showing interest in the role of VP Operations and Sustainability. The campaign period will begin on Nov. 20 and the election will take place on Nov. 29.
Trump win leaves some students reconsidering plans to study and work in the United States
Many at
McGill cite feelings of uncertainty and concern regarding America’s future
Daniel Miksha Staff Writer
Donald Trump’s election on Nov. 5, coupled with Republican control over the U.S. Senate and House of Representatives, has left some Americans at McGill wondering whether they want to return after graduation. Many students underline concerns about what a second Trump presidency could mean for abortion access, 2SLGBTQIA+ rights, immigration policy, and economic stability.
Some argue that the Republican majorities in the Senate and House could mean that Trump will face less political resistance than he did during his last presidency. Trump’s consolidation of power and his proximity to Project 2025—which calls to restrict access to abortion, facilitate largescale deportations, and cut funding to renewable energy programs, among other measures—makes many Americans at McGill nervous.
Massachusetts native, Izzy Rudy, U1 Arts, explained that the outcome of the election makes her wary of building her future in her home country. Threats to abortion access, environmental concerns, and Trump’s plan to withdraw from the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) were the most important issues on her mind.
“Uncertainty is my biggest concern,” Rudy told The Tribune. “I think the person in charge
There will be a Candidates’ Debate on Nov. 19 from 6:00 p.m. - 8:00 p.m. for nominees to discuss their plans for the future of SSMU. (Anna Seger / The Tribune) An article published in the November 12, 2024 issue (“McGill governance meeting highlights: Week of Nov. 4-8”) stated that SSMU did not consult Israel on Campus (IOC) in its drafting of the SSMU Policy Against Antisemitism because of its previous inactivity. In fact, consultation did not occur because IOC had already been deemed inactive by former VP Student Life Chloé Muñoz before she left her role per the SSMU’s Internal Regulations of Student Groups. Further, IOC was not consulted because they are not a self-identified Jewish group. The Tribune regrets this error.
is unstable and erratic, and because I don’t know what he has in store, I also don’t know what I have in store for my future.”
Hannah Hipolito, U2 Arts, was born and raised in Florida. Her concerns about the effects of a second Trump administration on abortion access and 2SLGBTQIA+ rights also have her questioning going back. Her high school career was marked by protests and counter-protests surrounding the Florida ‘Don’t Say Gay’ bill, which aimed to prevent discussion of 2SLGBTQIA+ issues in classrooms.
“Growing up in that environment was really hard, and I would be at these protests at my school, and there would be other students waving Trump flags,” Hipolito said. “Seeing that these are my peers, reacting that way to people being queer, makes it really hard to want to go back.”
The election of Donald Trump and the rejection of an amendment to the Florida Constitution that sought to expand abortion access in her home state solidified Hipolito’s belief that the political climate in the U.S. has soured.
“Previous to the election, I was really looking at grad schools in the U.S., very set on returning,” she told The Tribune. “However, since then, I have been kind of reconfiguring how I see the rest of my life going [...] I just feel like the climate in the United States has gotten really bad, and I wonder if maybe I would just be happier somewhere else.”
Since the election, Canadian Immigration Minister Marc Miller has emphasized that Canada may have to prepare for an increase in migration from the U.S. due to Trump’s election. Wendell Nii Laryea Adjetey, Associate Professor of History at McGill, highlighted the effect that the election of Donald Trump could have on Canada as a destination for immigrants.
“When turmoil unfolds in the United States, Canada is invariably impacted. Students, professionals, and precarious people will come in droves, reviving the myth of Canada as the refuge point,” Wendell wrote to The Tribune. “It’s plausible that Canadian institutions might appear more appealing to global talent than U.S. counterparts.”
McGill has historically been home to one of Canada’s largest populations of American international students, with a total of 2,253 enrolled in programs at McGill this year. (Sophie Alzona / The Tribune)
ally work in the executive branch of the U.S. government; however, as an outspoken Democrat, he feels no desire to leave his country for good.
Jacob Wesoky, U3 Arts, is the Executive Vice Chair of Democrats Abroad Canada. This election, Wesoky led efforts to increase the voting rate of Americans living abroad by connecting Americans at McGill with the resources they need to vote through student outreach programs. Donald Trump’s election swayed his plans to eventu-
“I think that that’s exactly what the Republicans want. They want us to give up,” Wesoky said about the temptation some Americans feel to remain abroad following the election. “I think that’s honestly a pretty dangerous sentiment. Obviously, I don’t blame people for wanting to leave and move to Canada, but at the same time, I think it’s important now more than ever to stay in the U.S.”
Discussions of campus security and academic freedom dominate McGill Senate meeting
Campus police presence and new first-year orientation challenges among discussion items
Monique Kasonga Opinion Editor
Continued from page 1.
The topic then shifted to campus security and the presence of the Service de police de la Ville de Montréal (SPVM) since the start of the term. Senators raised questions about SPVM’s communication with the university and asked whether McGill would better inform students of future security measures. SSMU Arts Senator Vivian Wright raised the example of the SPVM’s use of force on Oct. 7, and asked if McGill would discourage police from using tac-
tics like tear gas, particularly on non-protesting students. Vice-President (Administration and Finance) Fabrice Labeau responded that the university has no control over SPVM actions.
Senators raised concerns about the current mechanisms for reporting incidents involving campus security. They noted that these mechanisms are not widely shared with the student body. Additionally, they highlighted potential issues with ensuring the transparency and accountability of security when reports are directed to the head of security, rather than an outside actor.
“We cannot count on the formal mechanisms of grievance or rights complaints because they have evidentiary standards and don’t tell us about systemic problems,” Arts Faculty Senator Catherine Lu said. “They are also kind of intimidating. I can imagine that many people just won’t do that because they’re already being upset by a situation. Even police officers need civilian boards in which people can convey information away from internal police monitoring mechanisms.”
Labeau repeatedly expressed that the current mechanisms for reporting incidents with security are
a standard procedure. He also underlined that McGill has “fewer and fewer additional security members from outside companies on campus these days.”
President and Vice-Chancellor Deep Saini paused the discussion of the specific security question, stating it would continue in the open discussion. An unidentified senator raised a point of order, arguing that postponing the discussion violated Section 9.3 of the Senate Standing Rules. Saini assured that he was only rescheduling the topic. It ultimately was not directly revisited during the meeting.
The group also addressed the invitation of speakers to campus following United Nations Special Rapporteur on the Occupied Palestinian Territories Francesca Albanese’s talk on Nov. 3. Campbell then presented a hypothetical scenario where a pro-life speaker’s appearance led to protests and physical altercations. Arts Faculty Senator Juliet Johnson suggested that transparent and accountable security measures are essential when managing controversial events on campus.
“If we’re going to allow these controversial events, which I think we should, we obviously need to have security,” Johnson said. “It’s important for the community, on all sides of these events, to trust the role that security is going to play [….] Then security services need to be accountable and transparent [.…] So we need to inform the community about the reports in general and act on them.”
The meeting concluded with three final items. First, the Academic Policy Committee presented resolutions to establish an M.A. and Ph.D. in East Asian Studies, both of which were approved. Then the Senate discussed proposed revisions to the Policy on Hazing and Inappropriate Initiation Practices to clarify reporting procedures, and recommended them for Board of Governors (BoG) approval. The session ended with the annual reports from the BoG, Academic Policy Committee, and Committee on Physical Development.
Moment of the Meeting
Provost and Executive
Vice-President (Academic) Christopher Manfredi began the open discussion period by emphasizing McGill’s tradition of supporting diverse viewpoints, where controversial speakers are welcome unless their speech clearly violates Canadian law or hate speech provisions. Citing a 2012 report on a similar campus incident, he underscored that the issues discussed in the meeting are not new. Senators collectively agreed that the university should continue to be a space for open dialogue within the law’s strict boundaries.
Soundbite
“I want to be able to argue and then have a beer with them after—or a cup of tea, depending on your particular poison—but I think we’re moving further and further away from that.” –– Medicine and Health Sciences Senator Terry Hébert on inviting controversial speakers to campus.
The Tribune Explains: How to access abortion as a McGill student
Abortion is covered by McGill’s international student healthcare, free for Quebec residents
Mairin Burke Staff Writer
Disclaimer: This article serves as an informational resource only and does not provide medical advice. Please consult a medical professional for more information on the abortion treatment options specific to your community.
Navigating access to healthcare services and insurance coverage is challenging, especially when getting an abortion. For McGill students seeking this form of reproductive healthcare, The Tribune untangles how to engage with abortion services, both at McGill and in Quebec more broadly.
Who qualifies for abortion in Quebec?
There are two methods of abortion: Taking the pills mifepristone and misoprostol, or undergoing a surgical procedure where suction empties a pregnant person’s uterus of its fertilized egg. In Canada, abortion is a legal medical procedure.
In Quebec, abortion is available up to the 24-weeks gestation mark. Abortion providers in Quebec do not require a referral from a medical professional; only a positive result on a urine pregnancy test, which can be purchased at a pharmacy and some convenience stores and administered at home, is needed. Those over the age of 14 do not need parental permission to access abortion.
What does an abortion cost?
Abortion is free for Quebec residents, as it is covered under provincial health insurance. For international students, McGill’s International Health Insurance (IHI) plan covers abortion. Provided by Medavie Blue Cross and mandatory for all registered international students, the plan covers any intentional termination of pregnancy performed by a physician up to 24 weeks of gestation.
To avoid having to pay out of pocket and submit a reimbursement claim for a medically-necessary abortion, Medavie Blue Cross allows direct billing for students who show their Blue Cross IHI card at the Centre de santé des femmes de Montréal clinic. Students can obtain their IHI card on Minerva. From the Minerva “Main Menu,” students can navigate to “Student Menu,” then the “International Health Insurance Coverage Form (for students)” tab, and then the “Print IHI card” link. Otherwise, students must obtain a receipt from the provider to submit a claim to Medavie Blue Cross.
Nationwide, at least one form of abortion is free for those with provincial or territorial health insurance, non-insured health benefits, or the Interim Federal Health Program. However, there are different provincial and territorial guidelines around what is covered and at what week of gestation abortion is limited. The McGill Student Wellness Hub can help students navigate their insurance plans to avoid administrative fees from accessing outof-province abortion. Their on-site doctors and nurses can also help visitors book abortion appointments.
Without health coverage, the abortion pill— called Mifegymiso in Canada—costs $300-$450 CAD. According to Centre de santé des femmes de Montréal, surgical abortion costs $780-$980 CAD.
What the process of abortion might look like
After finding an abortion provider, the medical professional will assess one’s medical history and the progression of their pregnancy via ultrasound or blood test to determine what kind of abortion is optimal.
The first abortion clinic in Canada opened in Montreal in 1969, which set the legislative precedent that abortion can be offered not only at hospitals, but also in community health centres across Quebec. (Anna Seger / The Tribune)
If prescribed the abortion pill, which is offered until up to nine weeks of gestation, one can usually perform the abortion at home. In this case, users take a mifepristone tablet to block the uterus’ pregnancy hormones. After 36-48 hours, users take a dose of misoprostol to cause uterine contractions (heavy cramping) that expel the pregnancy sac through the vagina.
Surgical abortion typically takes 5-10 minutes, and can cause moderate to high-intensity cramping. During a surgical abortion, your practitioner can also insert a copper intrauterine device (IUD) free of charge.
Post-abortion care
For many, deciding to have an abortion is
a difficult decision that comes with emotional and mental challenges. The Student Wellness Hub can offer students individual mental health support along with potentially relevant therapy groups. The Hub can also help prescribe and administer other methods of birth control post-abortion.
Beyond McGill, Les Centres de santé des femmes du Québec offer a guide to exploring post-abortion emotions, whose use they suggest be accompanied by therapeutic counselling. The organization also offers support groups in English and French for people who have undergone abortion.
Please visit the Student Wellness Hub website and McGill’s IHI resources for more information about healthcare coverage. For more information on abortion access and support, visit Les Centres de santé des femmes du Québec.
The McGill Senate is composed of 111 voting members broadly representative of the university’s constituencies. (Bruno Cotler / The Tribune)
Montreal’s unhoused population deserves care, not cruelty
The Tribune Editorial Board
Continued from page 1.
Enacting this closure for the year’s coldest months is particularly cruel. While construction workers are deemed unable to work outside during extreme cold, unhoused individuals are expected to survive in these same conditions—a double standard that normalizes the notion that some members of our community deserve essential protection while others do not.
Such institutionalized indifference to the safety of unhoused individuals emboldens a disturbing pattern in urban policy, where public spaces increasingly incorporate hostile architecture— from divided benches to spiked surfaces—designed to exclude rather than protect unhoused individuals. By enacting policies that prioritize pushing vulnerable people out of sight rather than actively addressing the crisis, Montreal officials avoid accountability for the housing crisis by making it invisible to those privileged enough to ignore it.
The consequences of such policies extend far beyond immediate
Shani Laskin Managing Editor
Continued from page 1.
Governments are so petrified of losing grip on their power that many provide weak, surface-level solutions at best. In an effort to maintain the status quo, they will cut corners and attempt to delegitimize the scale of the threat of climate change. Add to all of this Trump’s recent re-election and the inevitable re-withdrawal from the Paris Agreement and rollbacks of environmental protections from a Republican-controlled Congress, and the threat starts to
displacement. Unhoused individuals may resort to desperate measures to survive the deadly winter months, from increased alcohol consumption to deliberately seeking arrest and jail time, thus further obstructing their paths to economic stability. Moreover, the health implications of prolonged exposure to extreme cold overwhelm an already strained healthcare system. Rather than addressing the root causes of this crisis through housing solutions and accessible public spaces, Montreal treats its unhoused population as a public hindrance to be removed rather than members of our community deserving protection and care.
This stigmatization becomes selffulfilling: The more unwelcoming we make public spaces, the more we reinforce the dangerous narrative that unhoused people themselves—rather than the systems that failed them— are the problem.
This structural breakdown highlights the entanglement of housing instability with entrenched systemic neglect of marginalized communities. Although Indigenous peoples make up just 0.6 per cent of Montreal’s population, they represent a staggering 10 per cent of the unhoused population—a
direct consequence of generations of governmental destruction of Indigenous social structures. Other marginalized groups, including 2SLGBTQIA+ individuals, and those with mental illness or disabilities face disproportionate rates of housing insecurity due to institutionally ingrained barriers and discrimination.
The McGill community cannot passively observe these public policy failures. The Milton-Parc neighbourhood, where many students reside alongside large numbers of unhoused people, yet tend to actively ignore their existence, starkly illustrates our direct connection to this crisis. We must acknowledge how our presence drives rising rents and gentrification, directly contributing to housing instability in the area. Such recognition demands more than passive awareness—it requires active engagement in advocating for holistic housing solutions to address the very crisis our presence perpetuates.
McGill’s own practices— such as maintaining a reliance on the Service de Police de la Ville de Montréal on campus, disproportionately targeting Black, Indigenous, and other people of colour, and preserving physical barriers that segregate our campus
from the broader Montreal community—mirror the city’s hostile approach. As members of this community, we must recognize our role both in exacerbating these crises, and in our capacity to challenge and transform them.
The solution begins with shifting narratives and approaches. Instead of treating unhoused individuals as problems to be solved, we must recognize them as valued community members. Montreal must prioritize evidence-based solutions like safe consumption sites and legislation ensuring safe and affordable housing, while the STM must reverse hostile policies that endanger lives. McGill can lead by example—by reconsidering how spaces like the Royal Victoria Hospital, which was used as a shelter for the unhoused, are being converted into campus infrastructure, supporting student initiatives addressing food insecurity, and fostering meaningful dialogue that reckons with McGill’s role in harming unhoused populations. Individual actions, from supporting local organizations to challenging stigmatizing language, work to dismantle unempathetic precedents that value property over people, and appearances over humanity.
Nurturing action through collective care
Understanding ourselves as a part of a larger community can defeat political apathy
feel insurmountable.
So where does that leave us?
If corporations and governments can’t adequately address climate change and individual actions feel like just a drop in the bucket, what do we do? Defect? Fly to Bali in a private jet? Buy another piece of synthetic clothing from Shein? Do nothing else but consume because fuck it, the world’s gonna burn anyway?
Recognizing that we are reaching potentially irreparable “ecological tipping points,” as Kyle Whyte, an Indigenous philosopher, writes, is scary— but instead of resigning ourselves to complacency, we can find solace in the creation of community. Individual actions do matter when they are understood as part of a larger network of care.
We have proof of this in our activist histories and current realities. After more than 10 years of litigation and protesting, it was the broad coalition of Indigenous peoples, ranchers, business-owners,
and allies who struck down the implementation of the Keystone XL pipeline. In California, following a massive fish kill in 2002, the Yurok Tribe and allies went to court to breach the dams along the Klamath River. In the past year, those dams have been taken down, the river restored to its natural flow. Less than a year ago, McGill committed to divest from direct holdings in Carbon Underground 200 companies as a result of over a decade of Divest McGill’s direct action. When passionate individuals come together, they create a kind of power that institutions cannot ignore. These connections start small with one conversation or one gift to a neighbour.
Last winter, I lived with 20 other 20-something-year-olds in a hostel with one stove and one oven. What sounded to me like the premise of a reality TV show filled with infighting and gossip turned out to be one of the most fulfilling experiences of my life. We quickly self-organized, deciding on a system of rotating
Creative Director Drea Garcia Avila dgarciaavila@thetribune.ca
Managing
Al-Sharqi
group dinners. As we sat around the table every night, over plates of falafel made from scratch or a family recipe for lasagna, we developed more than just deep relationships. Our commitment to this nightly ritual inspired a culture of sharing and working toward the collective benefit. This instilled values that we carry into our personal lives, work, and political action. We created a microcosm of our visions for the future; it is through the creation of these utopic enclaves that we push toward a more just world.
When I started my degree in Environment, I firmly believed that individual actions were useless in solving climate change—it was the corporations and governments that needed to do the work. And it’s true: One action by one person, just once, does nothing. But when we acknowledge our interdependence, we begin to see ourselves not as unremarkable individuals but as crucial parts of an ecosystem.
Celine Li, Ella Gomes, Jasjot Grewal, Sophie Smith
Alex Hawes Silva, Amelia Clark, Asher Kui, Annabella Lawlor, Bianca Sugunasiri, Bianca Tri, Charlotte Hayes, Daniel Miksha, Daniel Pyo, Ellen Lurie, Ethan Kahn, Jamie Xie, Luken Castañeda Garces, Mahin Siddiki, Mairin Burke, Olivia Ardito, Reuben Noam, Samathar Senso, Sarah McDonald, Tamiyana Roemer, Zain Ahmed.
Aiqing Qiu, Anna Seger, Ariella Morgan, Eliot Loose, Hannah Nobile, Lilly Guilbeault, Nour Khouri, Ruby Reimer, Ryan Dvorak.
Alessandra Papia, Alexandra Lasser, Elijah Olise, Haleh Cohn, Jeanne Le Roux, Lauren Brownell
Bruno Cotler, Emiko Kamiya, Evelyn Li, Sophie Alzona, Sophie Schuyler
LETTER TO THE EDITOR
The Link
For years, The Link has unremittingly stressed that we have a problem.
For 45 years, our necessary work in holding Concordia’s administration and student unions accountable depends on extractive work conditions and the burnout of our editors and contributors. Our staff are required to work upwards of 25 hours per week with little to no compensation. This has resulted in our masthead population consisting solely of those economically privileged and those willing to wear themselves thin by juggling numerous financial and academic responsibilities.
In the last volume, we launched the contributor freelance fund and started paying our editors a fairer wage—but both are temporary pilot projects. The project acknowledges a masthead position at The Link for what it is: A part-time job, a full-time commitment. Editors and contributors from diverse backgrounds could work and pay their bills. This pilot project has continued into Vol. 45, but will die without external funding.
Our financial support is 23 years out of date. The funding inherited per semester from the undergraduate student body reflects the consumer price index of 2001, with our fee-levy currently at $0.19 CAD per credit per student—not including those who opt-out. Funding appropriate for costs relevant two decades ago is not
COMMENTARY
Elijah Olise Contributor
IIn loving memory of student press
enough to pay our staff and contributors for their work.
We attempted to run for a fee-levy increase four times. In the face of austerity and a precarious political climate, we’ve been denied despite stressing what is at stake.
Hear us when we say we need your help.
The denial of an increase suggests an assumption that The Link has enough funding to function. This is the type of thinking that leads to our demise and nurtures a breeding ground for undercompensated labour. The notion that freelancing should remain “volunteer work” is additionally harmful and a blatant disregard for the fruitful labour writers do.
In Yasmin Nair’s 2015 Vox article entitled “I’m a freelance writer. I refuse to work for free,” she argues for the importance of proper compensation for independent journalists.
“The publishing industry gets away with conditions that would be considered grounds for litigation in most other workplaces,” Nair writes. “Writing is considered a mere hobby, and awful pay, combined with issues like non-payment, is rampant in the publishing industry [....] What possesses anyone who even halfheartedly claims to be a writer to willfully sabotage their fellow writers’ careers? What does it mean when even leftist writers, writers who aggressively
advocate against the exploitation of workers elsewhere, nonetheless become scabs in the publishing world?”
The Link wants to be a place that uplifts writers and multimedia creators and shows them they are talented enough to carve out a career for themselves.
The disaster of Vol. 43—felt individually by freelancers daily and student journalists nationwide—is a prime example of the environment perpetuated by underpaying your contributors and your staff. Vol. 43 saw seven editor resignations, partly due to unsustainable working conditions.
We cannot rvert to this exploitative model wherein each masthead member who resigned departed expressing the sentiment, “I am not paid enough for this.” In this perpetuation of a work culture where only the most privileged could participate, The Link became a white-dominated space in which racism, ignorance and insensitivity against Black, Indigenous and people of colour writers and editors festered.
All current masthead members were asked if they could do their jobs with little to no compensation. The resounding answer is a decisive no.
The Link was extractive to its staff and writers for 43 years until the publication as a whole reached its wit’s end. Our freelance fund, we found, is in part a remedy to the problem, yet without external funding, the fund will remain
a pilot project pending expiration. The freelance fund is single-handedly keeping The Link afloat by ensuring we never revert to being an exploitative newspaper.
The Link acknowledges that a freelance fund such as ours is rare amongst student newsrooms nationwide. Student publications often must treat their staff and contributors as volunteers, where occasionally, a select few receive a negligible stipend for their hard work. This is not the fault of student papers; rather, the institutional framework of universities is to blame. Freelance work is not a donation. Freelance work should not be volunteered; it’s a craft, it’s a talent, and it’s a job.
As a student-led community newspaper that caters to the broader Montreal community, The Link benefits and serves McGill students—and in fact, some of our contributors attend McGill. We are calling on McGill students to equally consider our fight for a fairer industry. The Link might not be dead, but without external funding and support from our community, it will cease to be an ethical workplace that produces ethical, advocacy-centred content—so it might as well be.
This is not an aggrandizing statement; it is a cry for help.
The Link has added a donation box to our website to help keep us alive. All profits will ensure our continuity and pay our staff and contributors.
Supporting youth aging out of care is a community responsibility
was not a political person. Yet, my identity is politicized, and every action I have taken is seen as a political statement. Driven by the wave of demonstrations in 2020 against police brutality, systemic racism, and the oppression that weighs heavily on our community—including the African diaspora, Indigenous peoples, and other racialized groups—I felt compelled to act. Frustrated by the lack of political will among decision-makers to address systemic issues and by the hesitance among some advocates and activists to commit to meaningful change, I sought ways to channel my energy into tangible solutions. I entered the work of advocacy and community building that year, organizing demonstrations, leading critical race theory workshops, and providing mutual aid support for vulnerable community members.
My work led me to the Maison d’Innovation Sociale (MIS), where I was accepted into their Civic Incubator Program’s Winter 2021 cohort. This initiative supports projects with social and environmental impact, helping them evolve from early ideas to mature solutions. The program’s 2021 cohort, which focused on resilience during the pandemic, was instrumental in my development of the Holistic Afro Youth Center, a nonprofit addressing the systemic challenges faced by youth aging out of institutional care.
At protests, I began speaking out about these injustices. People started calling me an activist and advocate—labels I never claimed but couldn’t ignore. Youth aging out of care face insurmountable challenges: A lack of stable housing, mental health support, educational opportunities, and safety nets that many take for granted. To me, it didn’t feel like activism—it felt like an inherent responsibility to shed light on these struggles and demand the change that these youth, and so many others, desperately need.
In Quebec, around 2,000 youth exit the child welfare system each year, often left to fend for themselves at just 18. While many of us rely on family into our twenties, these youth are expected to immediately become self-sufficient. It’s no surprise they are almost 200 times more likely to experience homelessness than their peers. Programs like the Programme qualification des jeunes offer limited support, but the system that once controlled their lives now leaves most of them isolated and vulnerable.
As McGill students, we hold immense privilege. We have access to world-class education, mentorship, and resources that help us navigate life’s challenges. Nearly half of Canadians aged 20 to 29 still live with a parent, benefiting from financial and emotional support. In stark contrast, youth aging out of care are thrust into independence almost overnight. Many of these youth report childhood trauma: 63.1 per cent experienced abuse, with 51.1 per cent reporting physical abuse and 24 per cent sexual abuse. Over half
were involved with child protection services, often beginning before the age of six.
The consequences are stark. Out of every 1,000 foster youth in Canada, only eight will graduate with a post-secondary degree. The barrier is not a lack of ambition but the absence of foundational care networks that make success possible. This is more than a statistic—it’s a call for accountability. Youth from care deserve stable housing, quality education, mental health support, and meaningful relationships, just like any of us.
Supporting youth aging out of care demands action. By addressing their unique challenges, expanding access to critical services, and investing in their potential, we can empower them while strengthening our community.
While McGill has taken steps to support former foster youth through initiatives like the Youth in/ from Care Bursary and mentorship programs, more can be done. Expanding financial aid to cover living expenses and course
materials, and providing dedicated advising, counselling, and peer networks tailored to youth from care, would create a more inclusive environment. By prioritizing these actions, McGill can set a powerful example of how institutions can break systemic cycles of marginalization. It’s time to stop watching from the sidelines. Let’s advocate for a future where every young person aging out of care has the support they need to build a life they can be proud of.
Globally, fewer than 1 in 10 youth who age out of care pursue higher education. (Lilly Guilbeault/ The Tribune)
Know Your Athlete: Emilia Mastromatteo
From Kenora, Ontario to the national stage of university swimming
Zain Ahmed Staff Writer
Emilia Mastromatteo, U3 Science, is a shark among the minnows. Hailing from Kenora, Ontario, Emilia has overcome numerous challenges to become a standout swimmer in the pool. A sprinter for the backstroke, breaststroke, and butterfly 50m and 100m, she has made a name for herself within the Martlets Swimming squad.
Her journey began at four when she joined her local swim club, the Kenora Swimming Sharks, where her mother, Janet Hyslop, is the head coach. Although coming from a family of swimmers, she initially dabbled in various sports before swimming truly captured her heart at 13. She quickly rose through the ranks, achieving national-level success in agegroup competitions and catching the eye of Team Canada.
Mastromatteo told The Tribune that she likes the collaborative and competitive nature of varsity, as opposed to age group swimming, due to its focus on team spirit.
However, as she transitioned to varsity swimming, Mastromatteo faced a significant hurdle: Injury. Diagnosed with thoracic outlet syndrome, she began experiencing severe pain and numbness in her arms. Despite this setback, she remains undeterred, leaning on her support network and adjusting her training to accom -
modate her limitations.
“I’ve had to be really resourceful and innovative in what I do and I’m trying to be innovative with things outside of the pool,” Mastromatteo said. “I am a unique sprinter [due to my injury], so I am in the gym four or five days a week working on a lot of strength components and mobility components. I do a lot of work with healthcare: Physio, osteo, all of them, and they’ve been really helpful.”
Her unwavering determination and positive outlook have allowed her to continue pursuing her passion for swimming, which has materialized in huge successes for the McGill team this season; she won Réseau du sport étudiant du Québec (RSEQ) Athlete of the Week on Nov. 12, and has been named McGill Athlete of the Week four times this season.
“I have won gold in all my races to date this season,” she said. “To know that something’s working this early on in the season is really encouraging. Some of the golds are for relays so that’s been really exciting for the girls’ team, just to be a part of the relay team and get a gold with more than just yourself. I think the thing I love most about swimming is the community you build.”
This sense of community is evident in the strong bond between the McGill swimmers. Emilia has witnessed the positive impact of their supportive environment—particularly during challenging times—through the powerful sense of ca -
maraderie between athletes, in the way they turn to each other for advice.
“The best thing I’ve learned is to rely on older athletes who’ve done it before. So now I try to support some of the younger swimmers who kind of feel those first feelings when they’re adjusting,” she emphasized.
Mastromatteo’s dedication to her sport is matched by her academic pursuits. She credits her success to efficient time management and the support of her coaches. Looking to the future, Mastromatteo aspires to pursue a career in medicine, prompted by her own experiences with injury and rehabilitation. She also wants to stay involved in the sport as a coach, giving back to the swimming community.
Mastromatteo’s story is one of perseverance. She gave some final advice for younger athletes aiming to pursue varsity sports. “To have a goal and stay true to that goal is really important, but try not to get so fixated on one outcome and one plan,” she said. “You have to always be open to guidance and advice from other people, especially different coaches with different perspectives.”
Whoopi scores big with new all-women sports network
Goldberg’s new initiative gives women athletes the spotlight they deserve
Yusur Al-Sharqi Managing Editor
You might know Whoopi Goldberg from her witty hosting on The View or her iconic role as a nun in Sister Act . What you might not know is for the past 16 years, Goldberg has been planning something entirely new: The first 24/7 all-women’s sports network in the U.S., straight-forwardly titled All-Women’s Sports Network (AWSN).
The network officially launched on Nov. 13, and it is the first of its kind in the U.S., dedicated entirely to showcasing women’s sports. Co-created by Goldberg and Jungo TV, AWSN is available in 65 countries and is projected to reach over 2 billion people worldwide, providing comprehensive coverage of women athletes at all levels for various sports. The network includes coverage of soccer, cricket, table tennis, volleyball, field hockey, judo, and more—as Goldberg said in an interview on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon , “If a woman is playing it, we’re showing it.”
It’s about time—women’s sports deserve the spotlight, not just as a niche interest but as a central part of the global athletic narrative. Back in 2001, Canada launched the world’s first 24-hour Women’s Television Sports Network (WTSN), but it shut down after a measly two years— a failure that many attributed to the controversial idea that women simply didn’t watch sports as much as men. However,
in recent years, things have changed. United Nations Women (UN Women) reports that seven out of 10 people globally watch women’s sports, and over half of them started only in the past three years. In one year alone, between 2022 and 2023, the Women’s Super League saw a 258 per cent increase in internet searches. There is undoubtedly a demand for more women’s sports in the media.
This demand for representation becomes more pressing when considering the positive effects of sports on young girls. According to UN Women, engaging in sports can enhance physical health, improve mental well-being, and foster a sense of belonging. Despite these benefits, by the age of 14, the rate of girls dropping out of sports is double that of boys, largely due to a lack of representation, resources, and role models. When girls don’t see women athletes who look like them in the media, it sends a message that sports aren’t a space for them. This is where AWSN can make a real difference: By showcasing a diverse array of women athletes across various sports, it has the potential to inspire the next generation.
Another barrier that AWSN can help overcome is the discrimination and stereotyping faced by women athletes, especially racialized ones. This is something that thousands of people across the world witnessed in the 2024 Paris Olympics, when sports commentators and even politicians questioned Algerian boxer Imane Khelif’s
biological sex and speculated that she must be a man simply because of her athletic strength and success. This blatant discrimination is exactly why platforms like AWSN are so crucial. By giving women athletes the visibility they deserve, AWSN pushes back against the deeply ingrained biases that continue to undermine them.
But here’s the reality: The success of AWSN depends entirely on whether we pay attention. The demand for women’s sports is undeniable, but it won’t mean a thing if viewers don’t tune in. This network represents a pivotal moment in sports media, a chance to prove the naysayers wrong and show that women’s sports are not just a niche market—they’re a vital, untapped reservoir of talent, excitement, and passion. AWSN can only be the
game-changer it’s poised to be if we, the audience, choose to support it. Young girls must be shown that the effort and time they put into their sport is valued, and that there is potential for their passion to go beyond just recreation—and this only happens when viewers choose to watch.
By actively watching, engaging, and investing in platforms like AWSN, we’re not just inching toward equity; we’re sprinting.
Studies have found that girls and women who play sports have a more positive body image and lower rates of depression than those who don’t. ( Eliot Loose / The Tribune )
The McGill Martlets placed fourth at Nationals this past season, and are now setting their sights on silverware in March. ( Drea Garcia-Avila / The Tribune )
Professional soccer players’ schedules are an increasingly heavy load
Why some have opted out of representing their countries this
Reuben Noam Staff Writer
The Union of European Football Associations (UEFA)’s Nations League Matchday five of six kicked off Nov. 14, short a slew of several big-name players from the English Premier League (EPL) like Martin Ødegaard, Ollie Watkins, and Cole Palmer. This has led to questions regarding teams’ lineups, their match-ups with various contenders, and even the existence of the competition itself. Eight players withdrew from England’s Nations League squad. In a similar timeframe, eight players made the same decision to leave Ghana’s squad during their preparation for the African Cup of Nations (AFCON).
The trend reflects growing concerns about players’ welfare amid increasingly congested itineraries. It represents a larger problem in the structure of competition in modern soccer: The international and club leagues (La Liga, Liga F, EPL, Women’s Super League, Serie A, Serie A Femminile) alike play intense schedules. In September, only days before he tore his ACL, Manchester City midfielder and 2024 Ballon d’Or winner Rodri claimed players were considering striking over the UEFA Champions League expanding its schedule for club teams.
The injury he suffered darkly underscores the physical toll professional-level soccer can extract. Rodri has played nearly 200 games of televised soccer in the Premier League since his debut in 2019 and
performed well enough to win the European Championship with Spain this summer. This has taken a predictable toll on the 28-yearold: He accepted his Ballon d’Or on crutches and confirmed his absence for the rest of this season, an unfortunate price for even the highest honour.
This challenge transcends borders and genders, as both men’s and women’s soccer face gruelling demands that threaten players’ health. The thread of injury among high-level players is painfully easy to follow. It certainly stretches to this year’s Nations League; other notable injuries are piling up for Spain, like 17-year-old phenom Lamine Yamal, suffering from an ankle injury, and right-back Dani Carvajal, now sitting on the sidelines following knee surgery.
Women’s soccer is experiencing a similar surge in international and domestic competitions but without comparable resources or medical support. Ghana’s Black Queens, for example, have seen significant progress in recent years, yet they often operate with reduced access to facilities and less financial backing than their men’s counterparts. The disparity amplifies the risks women players face when navigating their schedules. As women’s soccer grows, exemplified by record-breaking attendance at events like the 2023 FIFA Women’s World Cup, there is a real danger that the same mistakes made in men’s soccer—overburdening players for the sake of revenue—will be repeated.
The absence of stars is expected to significantly alter the landscapes of matches, team dynamics and tactical approaches.
While it presents a challenge for managers, it also creates opportunities for youngsters to gain minutes and an opportunity to shine on the European stage. These moments accelerate the development of emerging talents, offering a chance for them to prove themselves to their clubs and national teams.
fall
At the same time, missing stars leads to less predictable outcomes. Levelling the playing field increases the potential for upsets, injecting excitement but underscoring the need for balanced rosters that adapt without compromising performance.
While competitions like the Nations League and AFCON qualifiers showcase the beauty of international soccer, their value must be weighed against player safety. Governing bodies, clubs, and national associations must collaborate to prioritize recovery and minimize risks. Conversations about the relevance of certain tournaments are touchy but crucial when mismanagement could make or break multimillion-dollar contracts. Players, in opting out of representing their
countries this fall, are showing that priorities are shifting: It’s easy for names such as Harry Kane and Trent Alexander-Arnold to reserve their England appearances for the biggest tournaments or Thomas Tuchel’s upcoming takeover of the team, without risking overexertion and or missing out on club football’s wealth.
Players will continue playing under suboptimal conditions. However, no matter the rewards, players should not be made to play under such conditions. Despite the physical toll, as Rodri would attest, such prizes as the Ballon d’Or make the recovery sweeter, if not worth it. However, no one has yet won the award off the back of a Nations League performance.
F1 Drivers’ Association clashes with FIA over punishments for swearing
Ethan Kahn Staff Writer
After a less-than-stellar performance in the qualification and race at the 2024 Azerbaijan Grand Prix in Baku, Max Verstappen used an expletive during a press conference when defining his car’s level of performance. From a seemingly innocuous lapse in professionalism by an athlete in the middle of an intense title race came a €10,000 EUR (nearly $15,000 CAD) fine and mandated community service time from the Fédération Internationale de l’Automobile (FIA). This move sparked a debate between F1 drivers and the FIA on the true role of the athletes.
Not long after Verstappen’s infraction, a similar incident occurred with Ferrari’s Charles Leclerc, who, in a press conference following the Mexico City Grand Prix, used a curse word to describe his reaction to an incident during the race where he nearly crashed his car into the barriers. Leclerc, like Verstappen, was fined €10,000 EUR. Following these two incidents, the Grand Prix Drivers’ Association (GPDA)—the F1 drivers’ union— released a statement denouncing the FIA’s actions. The statement says that, while they must abide by the “referee’s decisions” like all athletes, there is a clear difference between cursing directly at someone with an intent to harm them and
more “casual swearing” used as a descriptor instead of an insult. The GPDA argued against the FIA’s monetary punishment of drivers and offered to help make rule changes to avoid future controversies.
These two incidents call into question the role of drivers as it pertains to their status as role models. Do athletes always need to be on their “best behaviour,” without any room for slip-ups?
That’s not to say that they should be able to say whatever they want, but a €10,000 EUR fine for an expletive not directed at any specific person seems to be quite a steep penalty. Considering that F1 has no problem posting censored videos of their drivers swearing (often directed towards others in an insulting manner) to their own social media to the tune of millions of views, why would Leclerc and Verstappen be punished for cursing at a press conference which would almost certainly have far fewer eyes on it?
This situation was further complicated when FIA President Mohammed Ben Sulayem made comments comparing the foul-mouthed drivers to rappers and pleaded for them to keep their speech clean—a sentiment many deemed to be racially insensitive. This is not the first time Ben Sulayem has clashed with a driver. In 2022, he repeatedly made statements to the media criticizing Mercedes driver Lewis Hamilton—the only Black driver on the grid—for wearing jewelry,
threatening fines if it was not removed. Some of Hamilton’s jewelry was permanent and could only be removed surgically. Hamilton was one of the first to call out Ben Sulayem’s “rapper” comments, saying that there was a “racial element” to them. The precedent of underlying tensions between Ben Sulayem and the drivers is part of why the GPDA was so quick to step in and defend both Verstappen and Leclerc.
Regardless of any of Ben Sulayem’s personal bias towards the drivers, the FIA must seriously consider what the GPDA has to say. These drivers, at the end of
the day, are elite athletes who are ruthlessly competitive and should not be expected to regulate everything they say following a disappointing performance. Athletes should not have free reign in their statements to the press, but the FIA must consider if this is the hill they are willing to die on. Considering his already tense relations with drivers, Ben Sulayem and the rest of the organization would be wise to take up the GPDA on their offer to collaborate on the reconstruction of rules and punishments to provide more clarity on what is expected of them.
The inaugural season of the Nations League took place in 2018, and saw Portugal lift the trophy. ( Eliot Loose / The Tribune )
Max Verstappen has won the past three Driver’s Championship titles with ease, but faces resistance from both McLaren and Ferrari in his search for his fourth consecutive title. ( Hannah Nobile / The Tribune )
Ihave a major headache. Literally: I have a headache because of my major—or lack thereof, I suppose.
Most people are shocked to hear that there is no Indigenous Studies major at McGill—fellow students, my family back home, and even this university’s professors. In 2024, the Center for World University Rankings (CWUR) ranked McGill as the second-best university in Canada and 27th-best in the world. McGill cannot be a “world-class” university without adequately addressing the dismal state of its Indigenous Studies program.
Indigenous studies and contemporary Indigenous issues are the crux of my academic being—I live and breathe for Indigenous studies. My dad, Mi’kmaq from Listuguj First Nations reserve, started me off young. I was 11 years old, reading excerpts of Richard Wagamese’s Indian Horse to my seventh-grade class (which was definitely not age-appropriate for an 11-year-old). I’ve since expanded my library to include books like Suzanne Methot’s Legacy and Darryl Leroux’s Distorted Descent, and a deep yearning has grown in my soul to learn more about this country’s relationship with the first peoples of this land to mark a path of decolonization.
When I committed to McGill, I knew that was no Indigenous Studies major, but I decided to make the best out of a mediocre situation. I accepted that I would have to cobble together a make-shift Indigenous Studies program through a Sociology major and Indigenous Studies and Political Science minors. Even though I couldn’t pursue the major I dreamed of on paper, I figured I would still get an excellent education at one of the best schools in the country.
But my God, is McGill’s current program a pain in the ass.
I greatly underestimated the disparity between the Indigenous Studies program and other disciplines. There are real academic gaps between the Indigenous Studies program at McGill and other departments in the Faculty of Arts.
The difference between a full major program or “just a minor” in Indigenous Studies goes beyond what will be written on your diploma.
Without a major, there is no opportunity to write a thesis for an honours degree, fewer courses available, and less incentive for professors to come to McGill to broaden the program’s reach.
Indigenous Studies is a highly interdisciplinary field, so when there are only a handful of professors available, students get pigeonholed into one or two areas of scholarship and don’t have the opportunity to specialize in what they are passionate about within the Indigenous Studies minor. For example, Nina Barry, U2 Arts, who is pursuing a Psychology and Behavioural Science double-major and an Indigenous Studies minor, believes that the increased array of courses that a fully-fleshed-
out program could offer would open up more diverse learning opportunities.
A minor is not McGill’s major Indigenous Written,
“One thing I am really interested [in] is mental health facilities for Indigenous communities, and I would have loved to be able to combine my passion for psychology and my passion for Indigenous Studies, but that’s just not really something that’s offered here,” Barry said in an interview with The Tribune
Comparatively, the Political Science department at McGill, which also takes an interdisciplinary approach to a complex discipline, contains five main fields that are all equally developed: Canadian Politics, Comparative Politics, International Relations, Political Theory, and Methods. While students in Political Science majors need to take classes in each area, you could easily focus on international politics of diplomacy in South Asia if that’s where your heart lies.
Meanwhile, in Indigenous Studies, there are only six courses with the INDG course code available during the 2024-2025 academic year, two of which do not have professors associated with them yet. Students in the minor program, like myself, are forced to fill in the gaps with complementary classes in adjacent departments. While these classes do present opportunities to learn more about Indigenous issues, they often have non-Indigenous Studies-related prerequisites that make filling your minor requirements just that much more difficult.
“It’s sad [because] I and other Indigenous students came to McGill expecting the Indigenous programming to be as strong as McGill’s counterparts. Unfortunately, that is not the case,” said Rune Hartgerink, U1 Arts, an Anishinaabe student majoring in Sociology and Archeology and minoring in Indigenous Studies.
Mateo Itzam Jimenez-Haham, Maya Mam U3 Arts student at McGill, began his academic journey here as I did: He wanted to major in Indigenous Studies but compromised by doing the minor instead and registering in Sociology.
“I barely took any classes in that major because it wasn’t really what I wanted to study,” Jimenez-Haham said.
However, with the help of Professor Noelani Arista, director of the Indigenous Studies program, and former professor Jimena Marquez, they created a 46-page proposal for an ad hoc Bachelor of Arts degree which allowed Jimenez-Haham to design his own course of study.
“If [McGill] really wanted to [create an Indigenous Studies major], they would, but they don’t. They’ve been reluctant. They’ve been dragging their feet,” Jimenez-Haham said.
“[McGill] made a minor [and] said a major would just soon follow. It’s been about a decade, and even despite many people advocating for its implementation, it still is not a
designed, Zoe Gesaset-Gloqowej
reality. I’m really hopeful that this ad hoc BA can show [McGill] that people are genuinely, really wanting this [major] to be a reality and hopefully speed up the process a little bit for everyone.”
In December 2023, A McGill hiring freeze issued “a complete halt of all new hiring, both academic and administrative.” The freeze, coupled with within-faculty tensions, led some professors to leave the university. My fears grew about the future of Indigenous Studies at McGill. Like many of my peers in more niche areas of study such as Music Composition, I worried that McGill’s current financial situation would disproportionately affect departments that are already struggling.
At Concordia, First Peoples Studies is a BA with a major and a minor. However, First Peoples Stud ies is not a department, as it is housed in the School of Community and Public Affairs. As it is not its own depart ment, they do not have direct access to the budget, but these barriers are not unique to First Peoples Studies.
The Tribune spoke with Nico las Renaud, Huron-Wendat and Québecois Assistant Professor and Director of the First Peoples Studies program at Concordia University, about the impacts of having a major program in Indigenous Studies.
“There are certainly other majors in culturally based studies, about a given people or nation in various parts of the world, so there’s no reason that the first people of this land wouldn’t be included in the subjects of this university,” Renaud said in an interview with The Tribune
However, he advised caution around assuming that adding a major would automatically make the university more decolonial or inclusive of Indigenous students and faculty.
“Yes, it’s better if they can be a major, [but] it’s not the only criteria of how a university will offer something meaningful about Indigenous people,” Renaud said. “A university might not offer a major in the field and yet be a good place for Indigenous students and profs, based on other aspects of the environment it provides and the space given to Indigenous perspectives.”
not enough Indigenous Studies problem
and illustrated by Gesaset-Gloqowej Lee, Design Editor
Further west, the University of British Columbia (UBC) has an exemplary First Nations and Indigenous Studies (FNIS) program. One of the strengths of the FNIS program at UBC is their research practicum where students work to meet the research needs of one of over a hundred Indigenous organizations that have partnered with UBC. Not only does it prepare students to be effective researchers, but the projects are designed based on the unique research needs of local Indigenous organizations.
Linc Kesler, Oglala Lakota emeritus professor at UBC, was the first director of the FNIS program and developed its curriculum. After establishing an Indian Education Office at Oregon State University, Kesler was well-prepared to design the curriculum of a strong and meaningful Indigenous Studies program: Oregon State’s Ethnic Studies department, which Kesler helped to create in the middle of a budget crisis. At UBC in 2008, which was also in the midst of a budget crisis, Kesler explained that the new President made the “very wise decision that the university should address the budget crisis by forming a strategic plan to guide the priorities and funding.” Kesler used this opportunity to incorporate plans for an Indigenous Studies program into the revised budget.
“There’s no point in being daunted by a budget crisis,” Kesler said.
On their website, McGill states that they “will heed the call of the [Truth and Reconciliation Commission] by engaging and collaborating with Indigenous communities to identify, explore and advance ideas, initiatives and plans that will embed Indigeneity in the life and activities of the University while seeking to enhance the presence and success of Indigenous students, faculty and staff at McGill.” In the 31st of their 52 Calls to Action, McGill also states that its programs’ “success aligns with experience at other institutions in Canada and the United States where full-blown Indigenous or Native Studies programs have been proven successful for the past several decades.”
While this language sounds encouraging, the lack of classes and
no major program in sight makes one wonder how much institutional support there really is behind these statements.
Across North America, dedicated Indigenous Studies programs are still relatively new, and many institutions are still in the process of building comprehensive programs.
“There’s Indigenous nothing happening [at the University of Toronto (UofT)],” said Kesler, who received his PhD from UofT in 1981. “Of course, that was like 50 years ago, but I don’t think it’s a whole lot better now [....] You know, the bar is pretty low. You can become a leading institution by doing anything.”
When it comes to concrete plans, there is little information available online about the trajectory of the Indigenous Studies program.
A Google search turns up little else other than information on the minor and two decade-old articles, one from Anishnbek News and another from The McGill Daily. Both articles are from when the program was first announced nine years ago.
Since the path forward is so vague, let’s do some of the work that McGill’s administration should be doing and imagine what a strong, durable, and meaningful Indigenous Studies program could look like.
First, there must be collaboration between the university and local Indigenous communities and organizations. The university must exercise humility and base its curriculum on the ideas and needs of local communities. An academic program is just an empty shell without true, meaningful relationships with the people it claims to serve. These connections will serve to pressure the university to continue evolving its program as well as keeping the curriculum relevant.
“I will tell you that I think in both my experience in Oregon and my experience at UBC, what was critical to the success of both of those initiatives was engagement with the Indigenous community in Oregon,” Kesler said.
Second, Indigenous faculty must be involved in the process of building the program.
In an interview with The Tribune, Professor Vernon Coburn, an Anishinaabe associate professor and Faculty Chair of McGill’s Indigenous Relations Initiative, emphasized the need for caution in such circumstances. He explained that the University of Ottawa’s Institute of Indigenous Research and Studies crashed before being able to truly take off because it was not created ethically or relationally.
“It’s been almost a dismal failure,” Coburn said in an interview with The Tribune. “I think it was because it was led very narrowly, without engagement from the community and input from Indigenous faculty and staff and the larger university community.”
Third, the program must be more than a vanity project. McGill has encouraged faculty to begin events with land acknowledgments, only to turn around and engage in a legal battle against the Kanien’kehá:ka Kahnistensera (Mohawk Mothers) over possible unmarked
graves at the site of McGill’s New Vic Project at the former Royal Victoria Hospital (RVH). The Indigenous Studies program must be designed as more than a flashy banner on McGill’s website that claims a journey toward reconciliation.
“A lot of that reconciliation and Indigenization stuff is show—it’s a spectacle, just like reconciliation in general is a spectacle for good conscience of the settler society,” Renaud said. “Real change is very different.”
Finally, the program must be set up to succeed. Once established, the university cannot treat the program like a “diversity experiment” where if it fails, the Indigenous faculty would be at fault. This highlights discrepancies between Indigenous and non-Indigenous disciplines, which are given more institutional support. McGill has an obligation not just to establish the program but to truly ensure its success and longevity.
“It’s like offering one person a Cadillac and then offering the other person a little Ford or some other rinky-dink vehicle,” Coburn said. “We can see the differential treatment. And then you blame us for it failing? [They] say, well, look, every time we give the Indigenous people something, it doesn’t work, they break it [....] And look, it’s their own fault that it failed. It’s like, if you helped department X so much, why don’t you give us the same amount of help to succeed?”
“It’s just going to be an embarrassment if you do it off the back of a cocktail napkin. No, this needs to be comprehensive,” said Coburn about the future of McGill’s Indigenous Studies department.
But why do Indigenous Studies programs matter? Kesler said it plainly in an interview: “As to why to do it, it’s pretty simple. Because it’s the 21st century, you’re in Canada, [and] Canada has a long and terribly troubled relationship with Indigenous people.
[...] If we continue to graduate the leaders of British Columbia and Canada from this university ignorant of this history, what are we doing? We’re failing in our responsibility to provide people with the necessary information to lead this country and this province.”
Ignorance is a weapon utilized by the settler-colonial state to further its objectives of the elimination, dispossession, and displacement of Indigenous peoples. Settler-colonialism is not a thing of the past, and neither are we as Indigenous peoples. For too long, Indigenous peoples have been ignored, especially by colonial institutions such as McGill. Universities, as self-proclaimed beacons of knowledge and research, cannot afford to enable ignorance. As academics and humans, we must ensure that we orient ourselves onto the right path for the right reasons. McGill has this responsibility not only to Indigenous folks across the country but also to settlers. Only by learning from the past and the present can we guide ourselves and all our relations into the future.
Do McGill’s Life Science majors meet students’ demands? How to choose
a major without losing your academic balance
Haleh Cohn Contributor
Selecting your major can be majorly intimidating. What if you make the wrong choice, or inadvertently close doors to future opportunities?
McGill’s Biomedical, Biological, and Life Sciences program offers a menu of seven majors for undergraduates to choose from: Anatomy & Cell Biology (ACB), Biochemistry, Biology, Microbiology & Immunology (MIMM), Pharmacology & Therapeutics, Physiology, and Psychology.
In contrast, the University of Toronto (UofT) offers a dizzying 20 Life Sciences majors and 21 specialist programs. Concordia University offers three primary Life Science majors with a vari- ety of honours and specializations. What’s the Goldilocks number?
Students shared how they navigate McGill’s options in a survey distributed by The Tribune
Some of McGill’s majors combine concentrations that other universities keep independent, often pushing students to study subjects they are less keen on.
“I don’t enjoy some of my courses that are more organismal biology-focused. I wish that there was more specificity within Biology, so that I wouldn’t have to take as many courses that didn’t interest me,” said Emma Helman, U3 Biology.
On the other hand, combining subjects can help to make sure students receive a com-
prehensive education.
“There’s no harm in having a foundation in complementary disciplines, especially at the undergraduate level,” Dr. Campbell Rolian, Associate Professor in McGill’s ACB department, said in an interview with The Tribune. He pointed to how the course variety produces well-rounded dossiers.
Some students agreed on the benefits of broadness.
“It makes sense that [microbiology and immunology] are grouped together. You can study what makes you sick (i.e., microbiology) and how your body combats that sickness (i.e., immunology). They’re two sides of the same coin,” Andrew Dayton, U3 MIMM, shared in the survey.
However, Dayton and others expressed that McGill isn’t capitalizing on this opportunity by highlighting the connections and interdependencies between the subjects they group into the seven Life Sciences majors.
“I assumed that [anatomy and cell biology] were lumped together for a reason, and that there would be some continuity. I have not seen any connections made between the content in my anatomy-focused courses and my cell biology-focused courses,” said Emily Foxman, U3 ACB.
Whether McGill is taking full advantage of the combined majors, having a broader major allows students to explore within the field.
“It’s rare that you come in and know what you want to study,” Rolian noted.
This was true for Sebastian Sangha, U2 Biology.
“Having the chance to explore different parts of biology was helpful to me figuring out where I wanted to specialize,” he said in the survey.
Students also noted some gaps in the selection of majors offered by McGill.
“I would like to go into research or academia for molecular genetics. A Molecular Genetics major would have prepared me a lot more,” explained an anonymous U3 ACB student.
Elsewhere in Canada, UofT offers Fundamental Genetics and Genome Biology majors. McMaster and Queen’s have popular Health Sciences programs; the University of Western Ontario offers a Bachelor of Medical Sciences.
Foxman expressed interest in learning about health and medical sciences programs because her ACB major critically does not require any courses on social aspects of health. McGill is in the works of developing a Global Health undergraduate program, but its inaugural year has yet to be announced.
Majors are never glass-slipper fits, but Rolian had words of reassurance.
“You’re a whole package. Do your best in the absence of a stamp on your degree that says exactly what you focused on,” Rolian said.
Essentially, do some elective shopping; shape your transcript to reflect personal interests.
Fighting a silent pandemic: The urgent threat of
Dr. Dao Nguyen calls for action during World Antimicrobial
Jenna Durante Science & Technology Editor
The world is on the brink of a silent pandemic—one where currently treatable infections risk becoming once again life-threatening. This looming danger is Antimicrobial Resistance (AMR), a phenomenon where microbes, such as bacteria and fungi, evolve to resist the medications designed to kill them. Imagine a reality where a routine surgery could become fatal due to untreatable infections. AMR is an urgent global health concern, posing significant challenges for modern medicine and healthcare.
Dr. Dao Nguyen, Associate Professor in McGill’s Department of Medicine and Director of the McGill AMR Centre, highlights the complexities of AMR, spreading awareness for World Antimicrobial Awareness Week, which started Nov. 18.
“Antimicrobial resistance is a major and complicated issue. On a simple level, it affects individuals with infections, whether it’s something as common as an ear infection or more serious, like infections in immunocompromised patients in hospitals,” Nguyen said in an interview with The Tribune. “It’s like a perfect storm, where microbes have the ability to evolve and will continue to find new ways to resist the drugs we use against them.”
Nguyen emphasizes that a major factor contributing to AMR is the overuse of antibiotics, particularly over the last 50 years. Antibiotics are not only used in hospitals but
also in other environments such as farms and even the soil, which has led to an increasing presence of drug-resistant microbes in various settings.
Another key issue is the lack of investment by pharmaceutical companies in the development of new antibiotics. Over the last two to three decades, companies have largely stopped investing in research on new antimicrobial medications. Nguyen warns that without the development of new tools to address these pathogens, the risks to public health will continue to intensify.
AMR poses significant challenges globally, but the burden is disproportionately severe in low-and middle-income countries in Africa, Asia, and certain regions of Europe. These areas often lack the resources to manage the spread of resistant microbes effectively. However, the interconnected nature of global health means that AMR is not confined to any one region.
“It’s important to remember that microbes move with the people who carry them. Similar to the way COVID-19 spread, a problem that initially appears localized, such as in Africa, for example, can quickly spread and cause outbreaks in more resourced countries,” Nguyen said. “This rapid movement makes AMR a global concern, as issues in one region can easily impact others.”
In Canada, while AMR is less severe compared to some global hotspots, it is far from negligible.
“A quarter of infections that Canadians get are due to bacteria that are resistant
“Grad school recruiters usually do their due diligence and look at your transcript in more granular detail,” Rolian said.
Comparing degree planning between universities is an apples-to-oranges situation. Precisely what faculties offer depends on many variables. Rolian suggested that historical contingencies, faculty research interests, and economies of scale play a significant role.
“There’s no way to standardize curriculum and quality to meet the interests of every student,” Rolian said.
Antimicrobial Resistance
Awareness Week
to the first choice of antibiotic that your doctor would give you,” Nguyen explained. This means doctors must resort to second- or thirdline treatments, which are often more expensive, less accessible, and carry greater side effects for patients.
Upon recognizing the growing threat of AMR, institutions like the McGill AMR Centre are taking steps to address this challenge. Established in 2021, the Centre confronts this complex issue through interdisciplinary research, education, and outreach. Nguyen emphasized that the Centre seeks to bridge diverse fields—microbiology, engineering, and medicine—to foster collaborations that drive innovative solutions.
“One of the areas of focus is trying to support projects that are ready to become a technology that is ready to be translated into something very concrete and in the real world,” Nguyen explained. “So for example, it could be a new therapy, a new diagnostic test […] and supporting a more entrepreneurial type of research.”
Researchers are collaborating with the McGill Innovation Fund to support teams focused on developing practical, real-world solutions. Their goal is to translate academic research into initiatives that have the potential for commercialization or significant tangible impact.
The fight against AMR requires immediate and collective action. As World Antimicrobial Awareness Week nears, it serves as a critical reminder that combating AMR is a shared responsibility. By using antibiot-
ics responsibly, supporting scientific advancements, and advocating for better healthcare policies, together we can contribute to curbing the silent pandemic.
McGill’s School of Biomedical Sciences enrolls over 1,500 undergraduates. ( Lilly Guilbeault / The Tribune )
The
Why this app? McGill expert criticizes how educators choose educational software
Research explores the factors influencing educators’ app choices
K. Coco Zhang Science & Technology Editor
Over 400,000 educational apps are currently available in app stores, with some of the most popular being Kahoot, Duolingo, and Quizlet—all instantly recognizable to anyone who attended high school after 2010. While these apps can be useful tools for teachers, they vary widely in quality and effectiveness.
In a recent study, Emma Liptrot, a PhD student in McGill’s Department of Educational and Counselling Psychology, and her team endeavoured to understand the factors influencing educators’ selection of educational apps.
Liptrot first outlined the five basic educational benchmarks her team developed for high-quality apps.
“If an app is high-quality, it should follow some sort of specific curriculum; provide feedback to students if they make a mistake; include some sort of support to guide students; be developed by a team that includes experts in education, like teachers or researchers; and be based on some sort of learning theory,” Liptrot said in an interview with The Tribune.
Educators were generally more likely to download apps whose written descriptions mentioned these educational benchmarks compared to those mentioning buzzwords like engaging, interactive, hands-on, personalized, and multimedia. They were also willing to
Laurie
Olin
pay more for the former ones and give them a higher rating.
Although how well an app meets these educational standards did matter in educators’ choices, researchers found that educators were more likely to be affected by user ratings and app store rankings.
“The study found that high user ratings strongly impact educators’ app choices more than educational benchmarks. Educators’ decisions are influenced by benchmarks only if the app has a neutral rating, not if it has a high or low rating,” Liptrot said.
One possible explanation is that educators rely primarily on user ratings but look for benchmarks when ratings are ambiguous.
According to Liptrot’s study, educators said they would download apps that mentioned educational benchmarks 57 per cent of the time, compared to buzzwords 49 per cent of the time, whereas they would download apps with positive ratings 90 per cent of the time, compared to negative ratings 13 per cent of the time.
In general, educators strongly preferred apps with positive ratings: They were more likely to download them, pay more for them, and rate them positively.
Moreover, Liptrot highlighted that ratings are not always a reliable source of information about the educational quality of a given app.
“You would expect an app that has a five-star user rating to be a high-quality educational app, but the problem is that there are
many different things that can go into why an app receives five stars, and anyone can rate an app five stars. Children could rate the app five stars if they think the app is fun. Parents could rate the app five stars if their child really seems to enjoy using it,” Liptrot explained. “Previous research has actually found that user ratings are not associated with the quality of an educational app.”
Educational app users skyrocketed from 185 million in 2019 to 270 million in 2020.
Educators are ultimately responsible for providing opportunities for meaningful learning within a school environment, so they need to be more discriminating with positively rated apps.
The app’s ranking in the app store also had a significant impact on educators’ decisions to download, pay for, and rate an app.
“We expected that educators would prefer top-ranking apps, but our study actually found the opposite, that educators preferred apps ranked toward the bottom of the education charts,” Liptrot said.
According to Liptrot, a likely reason for this observation could be that educators misunderstood ranking, interpreting higher numbers
as a “good” ranking when, in fact, “top” apps have rankings closer to one. This confusion may have been more common in the study because participants were shown individual app pages, rather than scrolling through apps from first-ranked to last as they would appear in the app store.
Moving forward, Liptrot points to a need for companies running app stores to improve their user ratings and ranking systems to facilitate the selection of high-quality educational apps.
“The next step in the research would involve asking educators which apps they implement in classrooms, how they choose them, and evaluating the quality of these apps,” Liptrot said.
showcases storied career in landscape architecture
Tracing the history of public spaces from the 1960s to the present day
Ella Paulin Managing Editor
On Nov. 12, McGill’s Peter Guo-hua Fu School of Architecture hosted the 2024 edition of the annual David J. Azrieli Lecture in Architecture. This year’s lecturer was Laurie Olin, a distinguished architect who began his career over 50 years ago, and is now a partner at OLIN—a Philadelphia and Los Angeles-based architecture firm. Olin presented a whirlwind tour of his life story, chronicling a career that has witnessed upheavals, slow changes, and fundamental shifts in the field of architecture.
Olin, who is now 86, originally studied Civil Engineering at the University of Alaska during the 1950s before completing a Bachelor’s of Architecture from the University of Washington in 1961. During the 1960s, he made his home in the Seattle area, spending long periods of time in a cabin on the scenic Bainbridge Island. While there, he became involved in a struggle with the local government to preserve Pike Place Market, a public market hosting independent vendors that today is one of Seattle’s primary tourist attractions. The process impressed upon Olin the importance of vibrant, public places for the local community to gather—an emphasis that remained throughout Olin’s career—but it also took a toll on his mental health.
“I didn’t want to have another breakdown, but I wanted to get out of town,” Olin said in his lecture.
And he did get out of town. His travels took him to England, where he fell in love with the sprawling gardens attached to many country houses, and Rome, where he was fascinated by a city that had more historical layers than the United States could ever dream of.
It was around this time that Olin found his niche: Buildings were alright, but he found he was most passionate about the outdoor public spaces that surrounded them. This field turned out to be called “landscape architecture,” an area that was just beginning to enter into formal architecture study in the 1960s and 70s.
Landscape architecture includes the design of parks, plazas, and urban spaces like intersections and walkways. Olin noticed early on that introducing beautiful design into these spaces had the power to transform them from abandoned afterthoughts into bustling community centres. Olin called this “the confidence game of having a beautiful landscape,” referencing the way design could influence people’s attitudes about a space.
Olin’s commitment to making appealing, useful public spaces has taken him around the United States, from Seattle’s Gas Works Park—a creative repurposing of old industrial machinery for a children’s playground—to the redesign of Bryant Park, which surrounds the New York Public Library in Manhattan. More recently, he was involved in the iconic Apple Park project, which is best known for Apple’s famous circular mega-office building, but Olin was quick to note that the site is surrounded by over a hundred acres of carefully-planned
meadows, running paths, and fruit trees.
Over the course of his long career, Olin has seen landscape architecture grow from a fledgling discipline into a recognized part of architecture practice. He has also witnessed sea changes in the whole field, describing in his talk the first project where his firm used computer-generated plans and CAD modeling. He also discussed the increase in the presence of woman architects over the last 50 years.
Montreal’s beloved Mont-Royal Park’s paths and open spaces were designed by Frederick Law Olmsted, the same architect behind New York City’s Central Park. ( Mia Helfrich / The Tribune )
income areas and reconnecting communities that have been separated by the construction of highways.
“Of course, there were women [in the 1970s], but nobody knew about them,” Olin said.
He also described the increasing emphasis on social justice, awareness, and responsibility in landscape architecture over the years. His more recent projects, including his firm’s plans for improving the infrastructure around the Los Angeles River, have prioritized concerns like easy access to green space for low-
Throughout all of these changes, Olin has centred beauty and careful design in community spaces, always believing in the transformative power of architecture.
“He asked me ‘Why on Earth would people go there?’” Olin said, describing skepticism about one of his projects to revamp an urban intersection. “I told him, ‘Well I don’t know, but make something beautiful, and people will show up.’”
( Hannah Nobile / The Tribune )
‘Yerma:’
A plea for motherhood or relevancy?
Play explores womanhood and how societal pressures affect identity and mental health
Alexandra Lasser Contributor
The stage lights open on a young couple celebrating their new house. Yerma and John decide they want a child. They bicker as much as they laugh; the cracks in their relationship have already taken shape. Two years go by, and the cracks have become oceans drowning any possibility of a child until only Yerma’s fantasy remains. Yerma , a work originally by Federico García Lorca and adapted for English-speaking audiences in 2017 by Simon Stone, explores a woman’s deep craving for motherhood and the lengths she is willing to go to achieve it. Players’ Theatre’s most recent production, Yerma , directed by Ruby Isaacs, U2 Arts, delivers an evocative retelling of this captivating tale.
Odessa Rontigiannis, U2 Arts, delivers a compelling and nuanced performance in the titular role. She encapsulates Yerma’s internal struggle between hope and desperation, leading to a gripping presentation of her declining mental health. The cast as a whole brings out the intricacies in Yerma’s various relationships and shows an impressive handling of the complex subject matter beyond their years.
Ruby Isaacs’ version of Yerma is deeply personal—Players’ small play -
house was the perfect setting. The venue’s size fostered connection between performers and audience, engrossing them in the plot. The set design mirrored the intimacy of the subject matter, consisting only of an armchair, a lamp, and a plant overtop a cozy rug. This established a rapport with the audience and centred the focus on the mental and emotional aspects of the plot.
Isaacs cleverly used the plant to represent the blurring of Yerma’s own aspirations with the expectations placed on her. Struggling with infertility, Yerma internalizes the societal pressure placed on women to bear children. As a popular blog writer, her readers expect vulnerability; however, being watched increases the pressure she already feels to adhere to societal expectations. While her transparency around infertility brings awareness to an important issue, it propels her disappointment into the public eye, thereby amplifying the pressure she faces. It is during the confusion of her motivations that the plant shifts from representing a sphere of intimacy in the home to the liminal space of semi-privacy that is the garden. This new location represents the blend of public opinion and her own goals that get increasingly muddled throughout her life. The complete confusion of the two becomes clear at the end when Yerma exclaims that not having a child
Where do I begin: Addison Rae
is accepting social irrelevancy.
Through the show’s soundtrack and costuming, Isaacs explores the theme of aging in a society that overvalues youth. At the start of the work, aging is represented as a celebration of career accomplishments and financial security. However, it quickly turns into a reminder of the diminishing possibility of motherhood as expressed by the choice to play the dreamy opening of Lorde’s “Ribs” between scenes. The song speaks of the fleeting nature of youth and a fear of dealing with the responsibilities of adulthood. Yerma’s mode of grappling with losing the social currency of youth is to have a child. When this is no longer a feasible option, she becomes reckless, losing herself to her spiraling thoughts.
When speaking to Isaacs after the show, she quoted a line from Florence and The Machine’s song “South London Forever” that she said inspired her production: “We’re just children wanting
How the famed TikToker went from making a ripple to a splash
Bianca Sugunasiri Staff Writer
From “talentless” TikTok darling to rising Netflix starlet to pop singer making a splash in the music industry, the public view of Addison Rae has been more unpredictable than Canadian weather. Addison first introduced herself to the public in 2019 with popular but menial lip-sync TikToks, sparking similar trends to those of fellow TikToker and influencer Charli D’Amelio. Her TikTok popularity swelled rapidly, with a current count of 88.9 million TikTok followers. Riding the wave of her newfound internet fame, Rae moved to Southern California in December 2019 to join the Hype House, a collaborative content-creation mansion.
In September 2020, she began shooting He’s All That , a Netflix spin-off of the classic rom-com She’s All That . Rae notes that she channelled her own experiences into her character Padgett, a rising social media star similarly struggling to be taken seriously. Bright with optimism, she released her first single “Obsessed” in March 2021, which the public eviscerated mercilessly; it soon became an anchor point to corroborate the view that her success was based on anything but talent. The release of “Diet Pepsi” in August 2024 granted her a bit of a revival, but not to the extent of her newest single: “Aquamarine.” Alongside her collaborative remix with Charli XCX on “Von dutch,” “Aqua -
marine” has launched a public reevaluation of her talent. So how exactly did Rae go from being a TikTok automaton to the next musical “It Girl?”
Despite her TikTok career appearing perfunctory, it provided a clever way to fast-track her artistic aspirations. Rae claims that TikTok was simply a stepping stone to her ultimate goal of working in acting and music production. Growing up
in a small town, her ambitions seemed lofty and idealistic, but the rise of TikTok allowed anyone to reach a broad audience very efficiently. Rae used her popularity to boost her profile and begin forging showbiz connections. This alone may not have been enough to garner the public’s favour, but it got her a foot in the door.
Her next obstacle was reframing herself as someone with substance and creative authenticity. In an interview with Elle , she explicitly highlights the difficulties of escaping public labels within the industry. It is one thing to achieve mindless popularity; people will “like” and follow TikTokers, but that does not
children of our own.” Yerma has a deep desire for motherhood that stems from maternal love and a yearning for social relevance. The play culminates in her return from a reckless night of desperate partying in a short white dress. The dress is on backwards—she can no longer correctly wear the costume of youth. Unable to find her role in society, she decides to take herself out of it completely. Yerma does not offer a solution to the issues it presents, but opens up a necessary dialogue around the overwhelming pressures facing adult women today.
necessarily equate to admiration or respect. Rae had to transform the “brainrot” addiction of the public into genuine appreciation for her craft.
This turned out to be a trial-and-error process. The public received her first musical endeavour, “Obsessed,” as shallow and overhyped. With “Aquamarine” at its core, Rae re-emerges with a newfound style that shifts from being meticulously plastic to free-flowing and enigmatic, capturing the attention of viewers. The two music videos encapsulate this transformation in their style, format, and ambience.
Rae leaves the choppy TikTok style of dancing behind in “Obsessed” for a dynamic, almost liquid type of movement in “Aquamarine,” creating a unique and slightly bizarre atmosphere that sets itself apart from anything else that Rae has done. Beyond style, the lyrics of both songs focus on the idea of desirability— however, “Obsessed” chases whereas “Aquamarine” attracts. “Aquamarine” develops desirability into a story of emerging out of hiding and basking in newfound freedom.
With her new success, Rae bares her true self with the conviction that others will appreciate it too, her rebrand exuding the confidence of a siren who has found her voice. She has completely captivated audiences, haters, and fans alike. By turning the ripples of her success into a splash, Addison Rae is on the way to making the world her oyster.
Simon Stone’s adaptation of Yerma won the award for Best Revival at the 2017 Olivier Awards. (Harriet Faught / Players’ Theatre)
Listeners streamed “Aquamarine” 1,428,686 times in its first day on Spotify, over double the debut streams of “Diet Pepsi.” ( Lilly Guilbeault / The Tribune )
ARTS & ENTERTAINMENT
Opera McGill haunts audiences with ‘Blond Eckbert’ An
exploration
Alessandra Papia Contributor
Fof paranoia, murder, and accidental incest
or their second opera of the season, Opera McGill performed Blond Eckbert by composer and librettist Judith Weir, a piece that blends elements of fairy tale and horror. Based on a German short story of the same name by Ludwig Tieck, the tale centres around Eckbert’s wife, Berthe (MacKenzie Sechi/Maddalena Ohrbach), as she recounts her tragic upbringing.
As attendees settle in for the performance, the orchestra plays a blend of foreboding notes that creep along the floor, promising an unsettling evening. When the lights dim, an animation of a bird drawn in harsh pen strokes projected along the front of the room begins to fly.
In an interview with The Tribune, Stage Director Sawyer Craig explained that these drawings were largely inspired by the illustrations of American writer Edward Gorey, who himself was a great influence on American director and animator Tim Burton.
A figure cloaked in black fur, feathers, and a headpiece resembling a raven slowly walks up to the stage with deliberate, menacing movements that imitate the orchestra’s slicing violin. The Bird (Rebecca Gray/Len Crino) walks in a crouched position, glaring at audience members with sharp, avian turns of their head. The audience is immediately engaged, asking themselves who the creature is, their relevance, anticipating the moment they will begin to sing.
A couch, chairs, and a coffee table, all covered in white cloth, are scattered onstage. As the Bird begins to sing, Eckbert (Mihnea
Nitu/Christopher Pitre-McBride) and Berthe uncover the furniture. Berthe wears a simple black dress; Eckbert is in black and white dress clothes, leaving the focus on the Bird. Even when silent, they are continuously moving. They perch on top of objects, glower at the audience, and hover around characters.
The Bird is fascinating, acting as both the source of audience discomfort through their staring, but also comedic relief by rolling their eyes and pulling on the characters’ costumes.
Berthe begins to tell her story, singing of how she ran away from an abusive home life
and ended up living with an old woman who, naturally, owned a magical bird that produced jewels—then she ran away again. Throughout Berthe’s story, the orchestra acts as a character in and of itself. Its music thickens the space with heavy anticipation, coaxing Berthe to continue speaking when the pain of her past leaves her speechless. At times, instruments took turns playing, the sharp violin and the clarinet sometimes stopping altogether to emphasize the weight of Berthe’s silence.
Characters make optimal use of the room’s space, both mentally and physically engaging the audience by forcing them to
shift in their seats with discomfort. At several points throughout the opera, characters appear and begin to sing on the balcony at the back of the room. The movement is uncomfortable. Audience members are no longer passive viewers, but participating in the story. Characters demand audience attention and the simple turn of one’s head is a form of submission. This transition implicates spectators in the questionable actions characters make, amplifying feelings of disturbance.
The second act of the opera is filled with rash decisions and confusing conclusions. Someone dies of an unknown cause; Eckbert’s delusions drive him to murder, and so he runs away. In the last few moments of the opera, countless secrets are divulged— the most jarring being that Berthe is actually Eckbert’s sister. Eckbert slowly falls to the floor. His death is ambiguous; it is unclear if he dies from shock, an illness, or at the hands of the old woman. Either way, perhaps it’s for the best. The sharp shift from nearly an hour of build-up to a rapid succession of action is jarring. Although there is shock value in this dichotomy, it also feels incomplete, leaving the audience with questions they are forced to take home with them.
Audience members, once getting past the fact that the opera’s lovers are siblings, are forced to reflect on the destructive nature of keeping secrets and the unreliability of perception. Our incredible fear of the unknown, coupled with the anxiety of rejection, drives us into silence. However, Blond Eckbert is a reminder that this silence is not safe. It’s violently haunting.
Blond Eckbert played at the Elizabeth Wirth Music Building on Nov. 7 and 8.
‘Heartstopper’ Season 3 is the authentic love story we’ve been waiting for
A heartfelt journey through love, mental health, and individuality
Laura Pantaleon Web Editor
& Jenna Durante Science & Technology Editor
Content warning: Mentions of eating disorders and mental health.
With innocent, warm charm, Heartstopper Season 3 thoughtfully guides its audience alongside Nick and Charlie’s love boat as the young couple steers toward adulthood. The new season introduces more mature content, but its foundations remain rooted in the light innocence that first won viewers’ hearts. As their relationship deepens, Nick and Charlie navigate the universal struggles of codependency, desire, and mental health, testing the true strength of their bond. Altogether, the audience ebbs along the twisting tides of queer love, deepening their understanding of intimacy and attachment.
Heartstopper excels in its portrayal of the teenage experience, using its warm, genuine tone to address some of life’s most difficult themes. This season, adapted from Volumes Four and Five of Alice Oseman’s comic series, centres on Charlie’s struggles with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD) and anorexia, and Nick’s anxiety about supporting him as his boyfriend. Rather than focusing solely on Charlie, the show emphasizes his health’s ripple effect on others.
Originally a webcomic on Tumblur and Tapas, ‘Heartstopper’ has amassed an enormous online fan base with over 124 million views to date. (Mia Helfrich / The Tribune )
The fourth episode, “Journey,” is a standout of the season. The episode is narrated from two distinct perspectives—first by Nick and then by Charlie—allowing the audience to experience the same events through the eyes of both characters.
Nick’s perspective offers insight into the pressure and worry he feels in trying to support Charlie as he is away receiving inpatient care at a treatment centre. We see Nick struggle with his desire to be present for Charlie while carrying the burden of his own emotions and fears about how best to care for his boyfriend. Alternatively, through Charlie’s perspective, we get a glimpse into the overwhelming isolation and guilt he ex-
periences during his treatment. A deep sense of unworthiness clouds his thoughts, convincing him that his struggles burden those he loves. Charlie’s narration reveals how he internalizes these mental health challenges, feeling disconnected from the world around him and questioning whether Nick’s love for him is truly enough to bear the weight of his pain.
This dynamic emphasizes the importance of community and support, a refreshingly different take from the way much teenage media reduces mental health struggles to a mere aesthetic ideal. In Heartstopper, the support Charlie receives from his friends when he gets out of treatment highlights a crucial aspect of healing: Togetherness. The show reminds us that romanticizing struggle doesn’t solve the teenage mental health crisis; it only normalizes it. This season in particular demonstrates that true support comes from working together to uplift our loved ones in their hardest moments.
The season’s final episode, “Apart,” highlights another layer of relationship complexity through Charlie and his sister Tori, whose dynamic offers a parallel exploration of love and responsibility. Tori’s overinvestment in her brother’s recovery reflects how easily care and selflessness
can blur into a loss of personal identity. As Charlie begins to heal and reclaim his individuality, Tori struggles to adjust, her sense of purpose tied to being his steadfast support. In a heartwarming scene on a ferris wheel, Charlie reassures her, “You have so much love to give; you don’t have to give it all to me.” Her reply, “I’d do it all again,” encapsulates the strength of their bond while illustrating the importance of balance in relationships—caring for others without losing oneself.
Charlie’s journey captures this beautifully: After two months away, he’s had the time to reconnect with himself and strengthen his individuality. He grows confident enough to wear a t-shirt for his band’s performance at the school fair, a noticeable change from the oversized jumpers he had used as body camouflage throughout the show, and a confidence boost all loyal viewers can appreciate.
Heartstopper offers a rare and hopeful reminder in a polarized age of media: Love, though challenging, is deeply rewarding. By exploring themes of mental health, self-growth, and the strength of community, the series captures the complexities of human connection in a way that feels both deeply personal and universally resonant. As Nick and Charlie continue to grow together and apart, Heartstopper reminds us that love is not just about enduring hardships: It’s about rising above them together.
Blond Eckbert is McGill’s first-ever performance in the Multimedia Room, located in the Elizabeth Wirth Music Building. (Emiko Kamiya / The Tribune )
Two Thanksgiving sweet treats to bring some of home to Montreal
Spending your first American Thanksgiving abroad? Read on
Lauren Brownell Contributor
With American Thanksgiving quickly approaching, the sun setting earlier, and longings for comforting homecooked meals increasingly omnipresent, homesickness for the holiday season is at an all-time high. While this time of year may be tough for Americans missing Thanksgiving, these sweet treats will hopefully offer a little taste of home.
These recipes are some of my personal favourite Thanksgiving desserts. I hope to bring my love for them to the McGill community and assuage some nostalgia amongst fellow Americans who cannot make it home this year.
For homesick apple lovers: Comforting applesauce
This year, I wanted to bring an annual tradition of mine to Montreal: Making my grandmother’s applesauce. While applesauce may not be a traditional Thanksgiving dish, this family recipe is a big crowd-pleaser and can curb any homesickness with its cozy, fall flavours.
When it came to applesauce, my grandmother took a more simple approach—using mainly apples and sugar—but this take on her recipe adds a few elements to enhance the apple’s tartness. This applesauce tastes great as a topping
on other treats and pastries, à la mode, or on its own!
This recipe makes about 10-12 servings, and keeps well in the fridge.
Ingredients:
• 15 McIntosh apples, or any soft apple that is not too tart
• 2 cups water
• ¾ cups of white sugar
• 1 tbsp ground cinnamon
• 1 tsp cardamom (optional)
• Sprinkle brown sugar (optional)
Steps:
1. Wash and peel the apples.
2. Slice the apples into thin cubes.
3. In a medium or large pot, cook apple slices on medium heat for about 15-20 minutes, until the apples are softened and browned.
4. Add water, sugar, and cinnamon, stirring frequently to prevent the apples from burning.
5. Lightly mash the apples with a spatula to create a saucy consistency.
6. Once the mixture is to a desired texture, add cardamom and brown sugar to taste.
For those clinging onto the last remnants of autumn: Smooth pumpkin pie
Whether you’re in charge of baking dessert for Friendsgiving, or just love the taste of a pump-
kin spice latte, this pumpkin pie is perfect to whip up as fall comes to a close. Its nostalgic taste is sure to keep you going through the end of the semester, and to spark excitement for the holidays to come.
Ingredients:
• Store-bought or home-made 9-inch pie crust
• 3 eggs
• ½ cup white sugar
• ⅓ cup light brown sugar
• 1 can pumpkin purée (or 2 cups)
• ¾ cup heavy whipping cream
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• 1 ½ tsp ground cinnamon
• ½ tsp ground ginger
• ¼ tsp ground cloves
• ¼ tsp salt
Steps:
1. Preheat the oven to 425°F (218°C).
2. Place pie crust on a 9-inch round tin and chill it in the refrigerator while preparing other ingredients.
3. In a medium-sized bowl, whisk together both the white and brown sugar until they combine to a smooth texture.
4. Add in your pumpkin purée, heavy whipping cream, vanilla extract, cinnamon, ginger, cloves, and salt. Whisk these ingredients together until they form a thick batterlike texture.
5. Remove the pie crust from the refrigerator and pour your pumpkin pie filling into the pie crust.
6. Bake the pie at 425°F (218°C) for 15 minutes.
7. Rotate the pie, to cook the filling evenly.
8. Reduce the temperature to 375°F (190°C), and continue baking for another 35 to 45 minutes. Once this step is complete, you should be able to stick a toothpick in the center of the pie and have it come out clean. If not, let it cook a bit more until you can do so.
9. Cool on a drying rack for 2 to 3 hours.
10. Place the pie in the refrigerator to set overnight and enjoy!
The light is always greener on the other side
It’s time to address the mystery around Montreal’s green sky light
Jamie Xie Staff Writer
It’s the neverending question lingering in the back of everyone’s mind, the eternal darling in the dark of Montreal urban legend—the unspoken elephant in the room, if that elephant were green and also floating a hundred metres in the air. For decades, there have been reported sightings of an ominous green sky patch of twilight, disturbing the usual white halo of light pollution over downtown. This experience has become so widespread that it has lovingly been dubbed “the Montreal green light.”
The Montreal green light is much more than your average folie à deux; it’s a very real enigma that haunts the recent memory of all who have encountered it. Like a mirage, it’s faint, hardly even there—never less than an arm’s length away, never more than shoulder-width apart. Nietzsche once said that if you gaze into the abyss long enough, the abyss will also gaze back into you. But does the abyss also use progressive lenses or is hindsight actually always 20/20? Only time and a little research might tell who or what this green light precisely is.
Upon interviewing students on campus, I quickly noticed that while the experience of seeing the light is nearly universal, the interpretations of it varied fiercely.
Karman Dhesi, U1 Science, reported sentiments shared in her social media circles, where the green light is interpreted as a UFO or some semblance of supernat -
ural alien presence. Contrastingly, Ash Chen, U1 Science, said that many of her international friends express a fond recollection of the light as an aurora borealis sighting. Especially her friends coming from regions nearer the equator seem to disproportionately believe in the concept of the green light as an organic uniquely northern meteorological phenomenon.
Though having never seen it in person, Helen Zhao, U2 Science, is convinced that it is the consequence of some sort of man-made incident.
“Possibly failed fireworks, maybe a plane passing by or some sort of accident,” she said in an interview with The Tribune
And she isn’t the only one who is skeptical of a man trying to play god and flying just a little too close to the green sun. Riana Dutta, U3 Engineering, has suggested that corporate greed might be to blame.
“I’ve been seeing it a lot more frequently now that you mention it, I used to think that it was global warming or pollution but something tells me it might be like a publicity stunt for the theatrical release of Wicked,” Dutta said.
One thing remains universal: People want to know where this giant green haze is coming from. Like moths to a very green flame, the light straddles a thin line between being infamous and famous.
When I turned to Google, it turned out to be easy to find that the real culprit was light pollution all along. The internet really does ruin everything. The light casts a shadow against prime suspect
number one: The Desjardins Complex. You may be wondering how a building on the ground could project light hundreds of meters into the sky? Well, it’s elementary, my dear Watt-son. Instead of using a wide selection of halide lights to project light outwards, the bank has chosen to install industrialscale LED lamps at the base of the building, firing light upwards— a controversial decision with light pollution activists that also raises ethical questions about the use of public space for corporate advertisement. This creates a gradient of green across the building, with all the excess firing off into the sky. Though most winter evenings the beam goes unnoticed, when the stars align and the clouds catch the light just right, they disperse it into the foreboding green halo that we all think of today.
Despite the green light being a product of light pollution, it serves as a beacon of hope in literal dark times.
“Ah, the Montreal Northern Lights. Dur -
ing winter when it gets dark out early and people are smoking and it’s freezing or depressing, it becomes sort of a little talking point. A recurring source of levity that kind of gets brought up when morale is low,” Jillian Ludl, U1 Arts, said.
“Gatsby
Pumpkin Pie is the most popular Thanksgiving dessert!
(Sophie Schuyler / The Tribune)
believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter—tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther.” (The Great Gatsby, p.180). (Lawson Whitman / The Tribune)
New York Times Games: The lockdown trend remains alive
How ingrained are these daily games in students’ lives?
Jeanne Le Roux Contributor
Glancing up from your laptop during a boring lecture and seeing a handful of people lost in today’s New York Times (NYT) Games is part of the ultimate McGill experience. Wordle, Connections, the Mini Crossword, and other beloved NYT puzzles are many student’s go-to games when they have a minute to spare, making them an integral part of many of their daily routines, whether in class, at the library, or at home.
The Tribune spoke with McGill students about what makes these addictive puzzles so popular and whether they still have the same widespread appeal they did when they first launched during the pandemic.
“[The Games] are quick and don’t take much time but still take some brain power,” Nuala O’Connell, U2 Arts, explained.
The NYT Games seem to have found a sweet-spot between challenging and relaxing, making them a great way to start a study session as they allow students to decompress while simultaneously stimulating their mind.
“I play them at the library right before I start studying or on my study breaks so I can relax,” Anna Bistour, U2 Arts,
shared in an interview with The Tribune
“The games provide some kind of mental stimulation that is not completely devoid of logic,” said Angela Chu, U4 Arts. Since they are also relatively quick, they’re convenient for short breaks throughout her busy days. The combination of the post-completion rewarding feeling with the swiftness of the puzzles are irresistible features for most students.
Another reason the games are a hit with McGillians is that they serve as great conversation starters.
“They are the same thing for everyone so you can easily talk about them with other people,” Yuval Klein, U1 Science, shared.
She mentioned that quick questions like “Did you do the Connections today?” provide an easy way to socialize with others. Nerds have been searching for their version of “Did you catch the game last night?” for decades, and the NYT Games seem to have finally filled this void.
The social aspect of the games extends even beyond the McGill campus as many students love sharing their NYT scores with family. Bistour explained how many people like to send their scores to their family or friends to keep in touch with loved ones every day.
“The games can get kind of competi -
tive when you do them with friends, which is the fun of it,” Bistour further explained.
Chu went on to highlight how the competitive side of the games is often reflected in class when some people are careful about others “spoiling” the puzzles, as many students stress the importance of being able to do them by themselves.
Although the NYT Games are still present in many students’ daily routines, there are some downsides to their addictiveness.
“[I] wasn’t paying attention during lectures and it was bad for focusing on studying,” Klein said.
She still enjoys the occasional Mini Crossword, just not during every single lecture.
“I do not play them in lectures because they are very distracting,” Bistour highlighted.
The level of focus these puzzles require can keep you fully distracted, preventing you from grasping important information during class.
The New York Times Games have become a staple in McGill students’ daily lives, offering a quick mental escape while encouraging interactions between students and their family and friends. These daily challenges have become so cemented
How to host a hassle-free dinner party
Six lessons I learned from my hosting debut
Tamiyana Roemer Staff Writer
Between the whirlwind of assignments and the weight of impending deadlines, opportunities to gather with friends can feel like a rare luxury. Why wait for a special occasion when you can create it yourself? This was the epiphany that prompted my first foray into hosting. While I can’t promise perfection, I aim to spare the future student host some trial and error with six lessons I learned from hosting my first dinner party.
Lesson 1: Keep your guest list manageable
The key to a seamless dinner party starts with the guest list. Take a moment to realistically assess how many people your home can comfortably accommodate without overcrowding your space or overwhelming yourself. Don’t let your enthusiasm to host cloud your judgment. A smaller group of friends who fit comfortably will create a more relaxed, intimate evening than stacking people up in every corner of your studio apartment.
Lesson 2: Pick a theme or focus
A theme is the secret ingredient that can turn a dinner into an experience. Whether it’s cozy comfort food, international cuisine, or breakfast for dinner, a theme can tie everything together and excite your guests. It sets their expectations and gives them something special to look forward to. Plus, if you plan on being a
repeat host, themes keep things exciting and allow you to get creative without the event feeling repetitive. From the menu to the décor, centring your evening around one idea helps streamline decisions—less stress, more fun.
Lesson 3: Budget smart
Hosting a dinner party doesn’t have to break the bank. Get creative with inexpensive but filling ingredients like pasta, rice, or bread—these staples can be turned into flavourful dishes without costing a fortune. Consider shopping seasonally to take advantage of cheaper produce, and if you have the time, visit a few different grocery stores to scout out the best deals. Being strategic with your shopping will let you serve a delicious meal without the financial hangover the next day.
Lesson 4: Plan a simple but tasty menu
When it comes to the menu, simplicity is key. Stick to dishes you’ve made before or ones that are suited to your confidence level in the kitchen. Be sure to keep your friends’ dietary restrictions in mind, and make sure there’s something for everyone. If you don’t know where to begin, start with a main dish and build your sides around it by using some of the same ingredients. This way, you’ll have complimentary dishes and a streamlined shopping list. A theme is also a great way to guide your decision in terms of choosing the menu.
Lesson 5: Prep in advance
Don’t underestimate the power of
in their routines that even the rushed feeling of recognition and embarrassment as you reach for the mute button when the “end of crossword” song starts playing in a silent lecture seem integral to McGill life. Although there are some less desirable aspects of the games, the overall consensus is that they are most students’ go-to amusements, and it would be difficult to imagine the campus without them.
Since its launch in 2021, over 1000 Wordle puzzles have been published. (Eliot Loose / The Tribune)
preparation. One of the best ways to avoid last-minute chaos is by choosing a handful of cold dishes that can be made ahead of time. Salads or desserts that chill in the fridge overnight save you valuable time on the day of your dinner. Take it a step further by prepping ingredients in advance—chopping veggies, measuring spices, or even pre-cooking parts of the meal. That way, when it’s time to entertain, you’re focused on enjoying the evening rather than scrambling in the kitchen. The more you prepare ahead, the more you can relax and enjoy your guests. After all, you deserve to savour the time together just as much as they can.
Lesson 6: Phone a friend
Being the host doesn’t mean you have to do everything yourself. Ask your friends to bring sides, desserts, or drinks to take some pressure off your shoulders. You might also need to borrow a few extra chairs, dinnerware, or glasses, so don’t hesitate to reach out. McGill’s Plate Club also provides free reusable dishware. Just because you’re the one taking the lead doesn’t mean you can’t lean on your guests to pitch in. Your friends don’t expect you to be the next Barefoot Contessa. A great dinner party is about collaboration, and the best evenings are the ones where everyone plays a part in creating something memorable.
The Pinterest 2024 Summer Trends Report saw a 6000 per cent increase in searches for “dinner parties” between April 2023 and 2024. (Anna Seger / The Tribune)
